Covered In Frost
by andstilltheyechome
Summary: Lord Alden Netherwood is renowned as being the only man to tame three wildlings as his wards. But when the Netherwood's visit Winterfell, a love soon ignites that could threaten the foundations of the North. Can wildlings ever be tamed? Robb/OC
1. Chapter 1: Wrong Side of the Wall

**A/N I don't own any of the Game of Thrones characters. However, the Netherwood family are my original characters. This is an AU fanfiction, but I'll take elements from the programme and books. The GoT characters are based on their TV representations.**

**Now that's out the way, I hope you enjoy the story!**

Chapter One – Wrong Side of the Wall

"Oh no you don't." Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell, reached out an arm and snatched his little brother Bran by the sleeve, pulling him back into line.

"But I want to see them arrive!" he whined, fixing Robb with wide doe eyes that he hoped would invoke sympathy.

Robb merely smiled knowingly. "You can climb after they've arrived."

He returned his gaze forward, but soon found his eyes roving the scene before him. All the guards were lined up at the sides, their armour freshly polished. The standards were crisp and white, the Stark emblem of the direwolf fluttering languidly in the wind, the animal's jaws frozen in a perpetual howl. The breeze was light but bitingly cold, clawing at Robb's freshly shaven face. He shrugged his fur cloak further up his shoulders in an attempt to stifle the chill.

The Stark's were awaiting the arrival of Lord Alden Netherwood and his family. The Netherwood's had long been friends of the Stark's, but the current Lord was known to be more arrogant than his forebears. Lord Eddard Stark thought this to be the result of Alden successfully quashing an onslaught from the wildlings a few years previous. Alden had captured three wildling children who had displayed great skill in combat and claimed them as his own wards. It was said that they had grown up barely remembering their life beyond the Wall. Eddard didn't think this a suitable reason to justify arrogance, but he was forced to tolerate the Netherwood's.

"Here they come!" Arya announced as the sound of hooves drifted to greet them. She grinned nervously at her older sister Sansa, but found herself ignored.

The guards rode in first, leading the way for their lord, holding banners with the Netherwood emblem of a majestic oak. They arranged themselves suitably as more horses and a carriage followed. For once, however, it wasn't the carriage that attracted everyone's attention, but the three figures that rode ahead of it. Their clothing betrayed them not to be guards; they wore thick cloaks of rich, black cotton, hoods obscuring their faces. Even Lord Netherwood himself, who rode alongside them, attracted less attention. He smiled smugly as he approached, noticeably larger since the last time he'd visited the Stark's.

"Are they the wildlings?" Robb heard Arya whisper loudly to no one in particular. Yet he was wondering the exact same thing. He found that he was transfixed by the three tall figures. He could discern that two were female, the other male. If these were indeed the wildlings, they had to have reached their twentieth nameday by now, long enough for them to be fully integrated into life this side of the Wall. Hopefully long enough to ensure their loyalty.

Lord Netherwood dropped heavily from his horse and strode towards Eddard. "It's great to see you, Ned," he said before he addressed anyone else.

Eddard smiled courteously. "Likewise, Alden. It's been a long time."

"It has indeed." Alden moved onto greeting the other members of the Stark family, finishing by ruffling Rickon's hair, who simply looked bemused by the entire situation.

Yet Robb wasn't paying any attention to Alden. After the greeting, he had quickly found his gaze returning to the cloaked figures. They dismounted gracefully and Robb had to hide the shock he felt; he had half expected the figures to scramble from their steeds like savages.

A servant hurriedly opened the carriage door and Alden's wife stepped from the carriage. Her hair was long and a deep shade of auburn, immaculately styled. It was only now that Robb noticed Alden's eldest son dismounting his horse and offering his hand to his sister, who followed her mother from the carriage. The siblings had striking, sharp facial features, and something about then unnerved Robb.

"My wife, Lady Petulah, my eldest son, Caden, and my daughter, Isla." Alden promptly introduced his family with a flourish of his gloved hand. "And my wards."

The three cloaked figures stepped forward and, to Robb's surprise, he found his breath hitch. Simultaneously, they lifted their hoods from their faces. They were quite clearly siblings. Their hair was as black as the Haunted Forest at night. Their skin was as pale as the snow that fell at the Wall. Like the Netherwood siblings, their features were striking, with strong cheek bones and jaw lines. But there was something about their faces that was softer, more delicate, more youthful. Then there was their eyes: a piercing shade of emerald green. Their gaze was steady and confident and they fixed the Stark's with unwavering stares. But unlike Caden and Isla, Robb wasn't unnerved by their look. Instead, he was in intrigued.

"Sophia, Malachy and Leena." Alden gestured to each of his wards in turn. The first girl, Sophia, was tall and had her hair draped atop her head in a swirl of elaborate plaits. Her eyes were intelligent and she emitted an air of maturity. The only boy, Malachy, was taller than Robb. He was thin yet lean, and his hair was a dishevelled mop of straight black hair. The last girl, Leena, was slightly shorter than her sister. Her hairstyle was less complex; a plait tied in a tight bun on the lower side of her head. But a few strands of wavy black escaped, framing her face. Robb could see that there was somewhat more mud on the hem of her dark green dress.

"The infamous wildling wards," Eddard commented, but his tone was friendly rather than judgemental.

Alden beamed at the remark. "Indeed. Very skilled in combat yet without the feral nature of their kin. I believe them to be a triumph, if I do say so myself."

The wildlings smiled on cue, but Robb noticed the fleeting glance that the three of them exchanged, a look of tolerance. Robb realised they must have heard themselves be talked about in this way for the majority of their lives.

Eddard called for everyone to come inside and the Stark's and Netherwood's followed. The two Lords walked on ahead, talking of the hunt that they would be having tomorrow. Robb could feel the presence of the wildlings behind him. He itched to turn just a little, only to catch a glimpse, but he resisted. Instead, he did what his duty demanded and turned to the Netherwood siblings.

"How long has it been since you last visited Winterfell?" he asked Caden, engaging in small talk.

Caden exhaled loudly. "Oh, many years, I should think. We were both just boys the last time I was here, if I remember correctly. And we didn't have the wildlings back then." Caden jerked a thumb behind him and Robb found himself instinctively turning to look. Sophia and Malachy were talking quietly between each other, and as a result Robb found himself meeting eyes with Leena. She held his gaze until he turned back around. Even then he could still sense her eyes on him.

"Yes," he agreed, rejoining his conversation with Caden, "I don't remember having ever met your father's wards before."

Caden scoffed. "Be glad. They've been nothing but trouble. My father lavishes all his affections on those three savages as though they're gods. They pretend to be civilised but I've seen the twins in the woods, hunting who knows what."

"Twins?"

"Malachy and Leena are twins. Sophia is their older sister," Caden clarified. "They'll be perfectly tame at the banquet tonight, but mark my words; tomorrow on that hunt they'll be racing ahead with a rampant expression on their faces."

Robb allowed himself one last glance behind him. Leena was speaking with her siblings, yet she still sent one look Robb's way. He turned his gaze away and made sure he didn't look back.


	2. Chapter 2: People Say A Lot of Things

Chapter Two – People Say A Lot Of Things

The hall was fit to burst, piled with people shouting and laughing and drinking and eating. Lord Stark, Lord Netherwood and their wives were seated on the raised platform. From there they could see the entire hall and the entire hall could see them. On the table that ran parallel below the platform were seated the Stark and Netherwood children, among others.

Robb had escorted Isla Netherwood into the hall, her holding onto his arm with a light grip. She was seated on his left and her brother sat opposite. To Robb's right was Theon Greyjoy, Lord Stark's ward, and beside him was Robb's half-brother Jon Snow. Robb was grateful for their familiar company, for sat opposite the three young men were the wildling wards. So far, the only exchanges Robb had made with them was a polite smile and the passing of food-laden trays. Other than that, he hadn't spoken a word to them, nor they to him.

"There's a hunt tomorrow, isn't there?" Theon spoke up as he tore a bite from the chicken leg he'd just ripped from a nearby carcass.

Robb swallowed his mouthful of wine. "Yes, are you coming?"

Theon snorted. "Of course. Not even Ros could keep me away if she said she was mine for a week. We haven't been on a proper hunt in an age." He leaned round Robb to speak to Isla, grinning at her. "Will you be gracing us with your company, Lady Isla?"

She smiled at him with a mixture of amusement and arrogance. "I'm afraid I won't be," she replied, "but my brother and the wildlings will be."

Theon turned his head to look at the wildlings a little too quickly, revealing his surprise. "All three of you?" he clarified.

Leena, the youngest wildling, was sat opposite Robb. He had tried to avoid her eyes all evening, and now he was thankful that he she was looking at Theon instead. It gave him a chance to study the soft slope of her nose, the feline look of her eyes. "Are you afraid we'll out-ride you, Greyjoy?" she replied, smirking a challenge.

Theon, slightly taken aback, glanced at Robb. Jon sniggered to himself. "On the contrary," Theon answered. "I just hadn't expected you all to be riding out with us."

He had only meant it as a joke when he had asked Isla if she was to join them. It wasn't customary for women to take part. They were women, after all. Theon had thought that the wildling boy, Malachy, would at least be hunting with them, but not the two girls. It seemed that they were allowed to fight alongside men regardless of their sex. It was something that Theon, and indeed the majority of Westeros, had not witnessed before. Both Theon and Robb were intrigued to see exactly what made the wildling girls so special that they were considered equal to men in combat.

On the raised platform, Lord Stark and Lord Netherwood were speaking of marriage.

"I was thinking, Ned," began Alden, picking absently at a scrap of meat on his plate, "that it would do both our Houses a great deal of good to unite them." Ned swallowed his wine, but Alden continued before he could comment. "My daughter Isla and your eldest Robb would make a fine match, don't you think?"

Ned considered this for a second. He glanced at Robb and Isla below them, sat next to each other but not close. Robb seemed more engaged with a conversation between Theon Greyjoy and the wildling wards. Ned knew he had to make a decision. It was an easy one; he couldn't deny Alden's suggestion. The Netherwood's were a powerful family and old friends of the Stark's; certainly no harm would be done by the marriage.

"I don't see why not," Ned finally reprieved, sighing under the weight of the decision and the rich food and drink that rested heavily in his stomach.

Alden smiled. "Good. I think they'll make a fine couple."

The hunting party were saddled and ready to leave. The sun was bright and climbing steadily through the sky. Jon was helping Robb tie the last buckle on his horse's saddle.

"It's a shame you can't come with us," Robb said to his half-brother.

Jon shrugged and smiled. A threading breeze caught in his mop of tight, dark curls. "Well, you know," he replied, yet he didn't elaborate further. "Watch out for those wildlings though, hey? Don't let them eat you alive."

Robb laughed. "I would say I'm more than a match for them, but from what I've heard that might not be the case."

Jon laughed in return. "From what _I've_ heard, not even the two of us could take them."

Robb put one foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over, taking the reigns in his hands. The hunting party consisted of Eddard, Alden, Robb, Caden, Theon, Jory, Ser Rodrik and the wildlings. The two Lords led the party as they rode out into the wilderness. They were heading for Wolfswood, where a herd of deer had been spotted a few days earlier. The trees were thin at first as they rode onwards, following a well-worn track. The wildlings rode just behind him, and Robb managed a quick glance in their direction. Sophia was wearing a dress of rougher cotton, one she didn't mind getting muddy. She carried a long, thin sword in her saddlebag. Malachy wore a cotton tunic and leather breeches, his sword hanging from his waist. Leena, however had startled most by arriving at the stables clad in a stitched leather vest and tight yet supple leather breeches to match. From her belt hung twin blades, one on either hip, and on her back a bow and quiver full of arrows. Robb had thought Theon's eyes had been going to pop from his skull like round, white eggs. Yet Leena hadn't seemed to notice the startled glances she'd received. She rode fast yet gracefully, and Robb supposed it was only fitting that she be most at home hunting in the woods than cooped up in Winterfell.

The hunting party quite literally stumbled across the herd, bounding into a clearing where dozens of heads suddenly turned to look at them in unison. Immediately the herd scattered, charging off into the woods with the party in pursuit. Robb could feel the adrenaline coursing in him as his horse weaved between the trees. He had his eyes locked on a young stag that was seemingly separating itself from the group. Everything else seemed to drift from his focus like melt water. Behind him he could hear the hammer of hooves, shouts of excitement and caution, but his mind was elsewhere, following the stag.

The terrain began to slope downwards. Robb knew there was a gully up ahead and if he didn't catch the stag before then he would lose it. He reached into his saddle bag, never taking his eyes of the springing stag, and produced a crossbow. A bolt was already loaded, and all he had to do was aim and shoot.

Too late. It was too late. The chasm of the gully seemed to crack the ground in front of him as though hell was opening an entrance. He pulled hard on the reigns and his horse skidded to a stop, sliding on the leaves close to the drop. The deer had already leaped across the gap and Robb cursed himself under his breath. He knew he could have made the jump, but not while concentrating on aiming a crossbow. He'd left it too late.

He was just turning his horse around when the affect of the adrenaline suddenly waned. The world came back into focus like a spyglass and now Robb could hear the pounding of hooves. He turned his head just in time to see a horse and rider whip past him and make the jump across the gully with room to spare. The rider slowed the horse, and Robb could see it was one of the wildling wards – Leena. Her black hair was loose and wavy, reaching to just below her shoulders. Her pale skin was flushed pink with exertion and excitement. She turned around, her horse jittery, annoyed by the sudden stop.

"Well don't just stand there," she called, grinning at him. Leena nodded her head to where the stag had disappeared from view only moments before. Robb couldn't help himself and grinned back. There was a small bridge a little further down the gully and he rode quickly for it. By the time he'd crossed and hurried to the spot where Leena was waiting, she was already nudging her horse into a gallop, a grin still on her face.

The two rode fast and hard to catch up with the stag. Luckily for them, it had paused not too far ahead, thinking that it was safe again. Yet the animal was soon running as the riders thundered towards it.

Robb was just reaching for his crossbow when he noticed Leena nocking an arrow into her bow. She had removed the bow from her back and taken an arrow from her quiver in one swift motion. Her horse didn't lose pace and Robb watched in astonishment. All he could do was ride. Leena raised her bow and drew in one fluid motion, the bowstring taught and her fingers losing colour. Then she released the arrow and the projectile flew straight and true. Ahead of the them, the stag stumbled and collided with the ground. Leena grinned again and turned her head to look at Robb. For a moment his face was frozen with shock, but then a smile cracked into existence and an amazed laugh escaped him.

The riders slowed and stopped beside the stag. Leena's arrow had cleanly pierced the neck. Robb dismounted and checked the stag's pulse with two fingers. It was well and truly dead. Leena stood on the other side of the animal, admiring her work. Her chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

"I have to admit that I'm impressed," Robb commented.

Leena was still grinning. "Thank you," she replied, "although you're the one who pursued the stag; I simply followed. You almost had it."

Robb shrugged. "'Almost' doesn't qualify when it comes to hunting."

"But we wouldn't be lying to say that it was a joint effort," Leena countered.

"I suppose not." Robb smiled. "Where did you learn to shoot so well?"

"I spent a lot of time practising as a child," Leena answered, her smile fading slightly. "It was all Lord Netherwood wanted – for my siblings and I to be great warriors."

"So your sister, Sophia, and you didn't learn sewing or-"

Leena laughed. "Oh god's be good, no. I'm terrible at sewing. In our spare time – though I have to admit there wasn't a lot of that – our tutor would try and teach us all the things that Isla and the other girls learnt. Sophia caught on better than I did, but sword-fighting and archery still come a lot easier to us than sewing."

As Leena had been talking, she had kept her eyes on the stag, once again allowing Robb a moment to watch her. Without anyone else around, he could see the youthfulness in her face that had been so easily masked by the fancy cloaks and the formality.

"It's been said that you've never been defeated," Robb said, and Leena finally met his eyes. They held another world in them, one of wilderness and secret emotions, trapped behind strategy and tradition.

"People say a lot of things," Leena answered. When she next spoke, her voice was lighter again, less enigmatic. "Shall we try and find the rest of the party?"

The two of them strapped the stag to Robb's horse and rode back the way they came, jumping the gully together. They returned to the clearing where they had first seen the herd and found the others waiting for them.

"Ah!" Alden called out as they approached. "The Stark lad has a stag!"

"It was a joint effort," Robb replied, directing a knowing smile to Leena. She smiled in return. "I pursued it and Lady Leena shot it."

Ned admired the arrow through the stag's neck. "This is a perfect shot," he said to Leena. "You should be proud my lady."

Leena smiled. "Thank you, Lord Eddard."

The hunting party returned to Winterfell, the adrenaline slowly ebbing as they rode. Robb caught Leena's eye once during the return journey, and this time he didn't turn away.


End file.
